


The Good. The Bad. The Morally Grey.

by thatgovernmentboy



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Friendship, Explicit Language, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 23:27:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18158438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgovernmentboy/pseuds/thatgovernmentboy
Summary: It was fairly easy to admire the good, to despise the bad. But those who made their bed in the middle? Now, they were hard to figure out. Miss. Jessamine, a pretty little thing they had picked up back in West Elizabeth a few years ago, lies somewhere in the middle of it all; as every changing as the wind. But if one thing is for certain, Arthur has found a good friend in her... Perhaps she will be his saving grace in the end.





	The Good. The Bad. The Morally Grey.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Half frozen, close to death, and on the run, the gang find shelter in an old abandoned mining town.

“Hey, somebody’s coming!” _Click._ “Looks like it’s Dutch! Hey, everybody, Dutch is back!”

“How did you get on?”

“Micah found a homestead, but… He weren’t the first.” Slinging himself out of the saddle, Dutch -- for a split second -- loses his footing. “Colm O'Driscoll and his scum, they beat us too it. We found some of them there, but there is more about apparently, scouting a train."

"That is the last thing we need right now, Dutch."

"Well, it is what it is. But we found some supplies, some blankets, a little bit of food... And this poor soul, Mrs. Adler."

Spinning on his heels, Dutch extends his hands out to the woman. Helping her down onto her feet, he waits a few moments to make sure she's steady on her feet before removing his grip. "Miss. Tilly. Miss. Karen. Would you warm her up, give her a drink of something? And, Mrs. Adler, it's gonna be okay, you're safe now."

With a crowd now forming around him, Dutch blows hot air against his hands, his words coming out harsher than normal as his teeth clatter together,"They turned her into a widow. Animals... I need some rest. I haven't slept in three days."

"You're over here. Miss. O'Shea will show you the way." Turning to the approaching Enforcer, Miss. Grimshaw gives a weak smile, the cold almost freezing her facial muscles together. "Mr. Morgan, we put you up in a room over her. Miss. Jessamine can take you."

"Thank you, Miss. Grimshaw."

Wrapping her coat tighter around her figure, Jessamine steps forwards, her brows knitting together as she watches her hot exhale of air turn into fog. "Come on then, Morgan. You ain't gonna do any of us any good if you end up frozen out here."

Patting her on the shoulder, Arthur’s hand falls lower and lower till it’s resting on the small of her back, gently pushing her in front of him -- a sad attempt to block her from some of the snow currently beating down on them. “Not to alarm you, Miss. Jessamine, but I think I might have already have. Would you be worried if I said I can’t feel my toes anymore?”

“I might be a little worried,” she chuckles, melting into the warmth of his hand against her back, “Is it all of your toes?”

“No, just the big ones.”

She lets out a soft snort, tilting her head down till she is staring at the ground in front of her, matching the steps Dutch had left in his wake. “I think you’ll survive, Morgan. You got a nice ‘warm’ room all to yourself. Should be able to warm your toes up. Ain’t that nice?”

Pulling the door open for her, he motions her in with a quick wave of his hand, hoping that she hasn’t frozen over as much as he has. “I suppose so. Where will you be staying?”

“Well, I think I’m set up with the girls. I suppose that’s where I’ll be anyway.” Weaving her way to the back room, she props the door open for the older outlaw. “Which it could be much much worse. I reckon I could be sleepin’ next to _Micah Bell._  Though, I couldn’t promise you both of us would be waking up in the morning, if that was the case.”

Arthur lets out his own chuckle, the sound shaking his body. Plopping down onto the worn down bed, Arthur pulls his shoes off, chunking them into a messy pile in the far corner of the room. “Is it warm enough for you?”

“In here? Yes, I suppose it is.” Eyeing a few holes in the structure, she rolls her shoulders back in an over exaggerated shrug. Arthur’s gaze lets her know that’s not exactly what he meant. “Oh, you mean where I’m roomed for the night? No. I reckoned not… I don’t think any place around here is considered warm. But if me and the girls huddle up, we should be fine.”

“Ah. Well, then, take this.” Shrugging off his coat, Arthur holds it out to her -- shaking it a little when she doesn’t move fast enough. “I’ll trade you for yours.”

“What? Arthur Morgan, I am not going to take your stuff! You need it more than me.” Pushing the blue coat away, she pulls her own tighter to her body, nuzzling her face into the wool lining of it. “Plus, I’m fine with what I have.”

“Well, you either take this or you stay in here with me. It’s your call, ma’am.”

“Don’t you ‘ma’am’ me, Morgan. I’ll take this then. Miss. Grimshaw would never let it go if she found me in here with you.” Grunting, she shrugs her own coat off, all but throwing it right at Arthur’s face. Snatching his coat from his hand, Jessamine slings the larger material over herself, her arms not quite filling out the sleeves.. But it was certainly much, much warmer than her own.

“That’s her problem. I’m just offering you a warmer place to stay is all.” Her coat rests of his shoulders, just a tad bit too small for him to wear comfortably, but just enough to act as a makeshift blanket. “She wouldn’t mind.”

“I think that she would.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. I know how some of you boys can be --”

“Ouch. That hurt.”

“And you, Arthur Morgan, are the worst of them all.” Giving him a wink, she goes to turn on her heels, the blue coat dropping down way past her knees, almost covering all of her legs.

“Yeah, yeah. Seriously. If it gets too cold, come here, alright?” Falling back onto the bed, Arthur shifts for a few moments before he finds the perfect position to lay in. “Out of everyone, I’d hate for you to be the one that ends up freezing to death.”

“And who would you want to freeze to death?” She giggles, pausing with her hand on the doorknob. Arhtur doesn’t answer, but he also has no need to… She already knows exactly who’s name he would say. “I’ll keep that in mind then, Mr. Morgan. Sleep well. Try not to keep Dutch and Hosea up.”

"I will do my very best, just for you."  



End file.
